


Storm

by Grimmy



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: M/M, gratuitous fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-21
Updated: 2015-07-21
Packaged: 2018-04-10 10:12:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 448
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4387847
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Grimmy/pseuds/Grimmy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I wonder where Jasper and Monty were during the storm in Ep 7?  That feels like a one-shot begging to be written.</p><p>A quick drabble exploring that inquiry.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Storm

Jasper is probably the first one to wiggle closer. 

For Monty’s sake, he’s willing to explain, but of course, Monty never asks that of him. It’s nothing like preparing for incoming solar flares and each flash of light followed by a consecutive boom has him shivering.

Zipping together sleeping bags seems infinitely better than hiding beneath a set of loose blankets. And it has nothing to do with the fact that their knees knock and Monty practically bleeds heat, even if he always has cold fingers.

Jasper knows that because he makes sure their fingers are tightly laced for extra-hand-squeezing comfort.

The world shakes and rumbles beneath them, he wind pushing and tugs at his tent, and he thinks they might end up whirled away with the worst of the storm. Perhaps if they’d made a run for it… The muscles in his legs clench, ready to dart at a moment’s notice. Monty, however, gives his hand a quick squeeze and Jasper feels certain it’s to keep him from fleeing into the storm in an attempt to make it to the ship.

He squeezes his eyes shut and keeps his head down. Presses closer until their sides are pretty much lined up, even if the positioning is a little awkward and it makes his butt feel numb. Part of the tent lifts with a gust of wind, and Jasper thinks that this whole excessive weather thing is scary enough to add to the list of: top three reasons he isn’t fond of the surface. His teeth don’t stop chattering until Monty starts brushing his thumb against his knuckles.

The storm doesn’t make it… dark. Not exactly. Just makes it so that he has to squint a little to make out the soft curve of Monty’s smile, and Jasper just sort of nods at that. Like he already gets the message before his brain can completely process it. Those are the times in which his chest feels exceptionally tight and his stomach lurches uncomfortable. 

Water floods the floor of the tent and if they stay just right, they can avoid their feet or the bag hanging over the edge of the cot. Jasper ends up resting his calf over the slope of Monty’s shin. It’s close, but it works for them. He knows because Monty practically melts against his shoulder. 

And, okay, it’s a little silly, but the storm feels significantly less threatening. It’s a lot silly - exactly how content he feels in that moment, the surge of excitement and tentative affection completely overwhelming his sense of dread. Jasper can feel his cheeks and ears burning and soon enough, the claps of thunder become little more than soft rumbles.

**Author's Note:**

> Pretty much prompted over on [tumblr](http://undeadtodd.tumblr.com/).


End file.
